


Into The Darkness

by Leeko



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Deckerstar - Freeform, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16344671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leeko/pseuds/Leeko
Summary: How does one cope with the gap a beloved person leaves in life? Sometimes it seems easier to just succumb to despair and drown all negative emotions in alcohol - especially if your name is Lucifer Morningstar...





	Into The Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> See end notes

It smells faintly of grass and golden poppy. Warmth seeps through his bones while sunshine illuminates the Lightbringers lithe form in his bed. He is dozing for the last twenty minutes with his eyes closed and limbs relaxed, just enjoying the close proximity of his bed partner. The smell must be the result of their picnic yesterday, he thinks, clinging to their hair and clothes in a desperate attempt. Contemplating if he should go back to sleep or waking her up for another round of intimate activities, Lucifer suddenly turns around to his left side and focuses the gaze on her. After all, he was not known for being a celibate person. 

It is a slow morning filled with quiet declarations of devotion and hands roaming lazily over bodies. When she starts to straddle his lap and blue eyes stare back at him he swears his soul is laid bare in front of her. He, the world’s greatest and oldest sinner, in the end found absolution in the arms of Chloe.

While he enjoys the rhythmic movements of their dance he lowers his gaze downwards…and frowns.

A small red droplet beneath her nose catches his attention. Fascinated he watches as it slowly carves its way down her face. Slow and steady. Like a raindrop on a window. Raising his thumb, he wipes it away just to be surprised when another drop forms anew. Deep down a bitter memory of poisoning and despair starts to bubble up, threatening to suffocate him. The memory is enough to ultimately free him of his trance. He wants to ask her what’s wrong but seems to be unable to form any coherent sound. As much as he tries not a single word is leaving his mouth.

Panic makes an entrance, the blood flow now increasing steadily. With more force than necessary he grabs her hips and pushes her down aside. Why is she not responding to his urgencies? She certainly must realize something is wrong, shouldn’t she? 

He starts to rise from the bed, intending to grab a wet towel and to call Dr. Linda. If she is not taking action then surely he will. While tumbling from the bed in a heap of limbs he suddenly spots Daniel standing awkwardly next to him. He would laugh at the absurdity of the situation if not an unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach. The other man’s face looks ashen and tear strains are craving an ugly path down. Everything seems to make even less sense than a few seconds ago. 

“Look, there was an accident.” Dan says and takes a shuddering breath, “Chloe, she...she didn’t make it...”

A crackling noise is drowning all other senses. Blackness starts to creep in his line of sight while his vision is fading.

With a sudden gasp Lucifer wakes from the depth of sleep. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the dizziness he feels. After a few seconds of collecting his thoughts he cautiously casts a glance around the dark room, afraid of what he knows he will find - or rather will not find. And still he needs to make sure. Maybe, just maybe, this time he will turn to his left and see her golden hair peeking out of the blanket fort she always wraps herself in...

Whatever he hoped for, it was a pointless attempt. Like every other damned morning since that fateful day. Nothing. 

\---------

Contrary to the previous mornings he does not start this day with throwing curses and profanities at his father. His throat is too sore to be of any more use. Instead he starts to drag his weary limbs out of bed towards the bar. The only thing that kept him going these days was drowning the pain in numbness.  
In the beginning, Linda tried to help him guide through the darkness but it hurt too much to even think about the reality. So he kept to himself, shut out everyone around him and spent his days brooding in the dark safety of his penthouse. He had thought that his brother or any of the other fools would make an appearance – not that closed doors would keep them outside. But to his surprise no one dared to awaken the Devil’s wrath. He concluded that now they got their miracle back in heavenly enclosure they probably do not have a reason to keep in contact any longer.

Lucifer huffs an annoyed breath. He feels overwhelmed with emotions. More so than ever. Every day is an endless torture of helplessness, anger and pain. 

Helplessness about not being able to protect her. Not being there for her in time of her greatest need. His stupid love for celebrating his existence with strangers kept him away when he should have spent every fleeting moments with his favorite human. 

She promised to come over to Lux after delivering the spawn to her father.  
She promised to stay for the night and hold him closely.  
She promised to help him become a better man.  
And now she broke all her promises. 

It angers him immensely that she left him alone and although he knows it is unfair of him he cannot stop being angry. But considering all these suffocating emotions, pain is the one that overwhelms him the most.  
Pain. He thought pain is a feeling he is used to. Most would say a feeling he has great expertise with. As the former ruler of Hell it was his task to inflict pain on guilty souls who deserved nothing less than to spend eternity in agony, reliving crucial moments of their miserable existence over and over again. He doesn’t take joy in applying pain upon other beings though, no matter what human nor celestial lore tell about him. After all, he once was a bright angel like his brothers and sisters and that continued to be the case even after his fall.  
The memory of physical pain is securely stashed away into his innermost being. He remembers what it felt like falling through planes, seemingly endless until the reality around him opens up in flames. Hot and bright they touched his skin, burning until every tiny bit of his former glory is gone and nothing else than pain is left.  
He lost everything with the fall - his home, his family, his pride. He remembers how pain felt and how he burned brighter than the flames around him. He, the Lightbringer, burned brightest with the pain. Changing and shaping the surroundings around him he created a new home and a new family. His pride was rebuild through the pain and he truly became someone new through the pain. But this was eons ago. Another lifetime ago, if there is such a thing for immortals. Since his retirement to LA he tried so hard to leave all this pain behind. 

Emotional pain, on the other hand, was something unthinkable for the longest time. Early on he tricked himself into thinking that the emotional fallout of his rebellion is a weapon that can be wielded rather than blanket than suffocates him.  
One could argue that the whole debacle with Cain resulted in pain but Lucifer was more preoccupied with confusion, jealousy and fear for Chloe’s safety. Feeling pain would have meant to explore all those feelings and that is something he has obviously no time for. Furthermore, it did not matter because in the end she chose him over everyone else.

Lucifer finds a tumbler still halfway filled from yesterday’s misery. He takes one big gulp before turning around and using the momentum to smash the glass into the nearest wall. On contact it bursts into a thousand pieces, though the sound that fills the emptiness does not satisfy at all. As an immortal being time always had a different meaning for Lucifer but the last eleven days seem to drag into eternity. He feels like he slowly shifts into oblivion and every day it becomes harder to fight against it. He remembers her laughing so carefree that morning at probably one of his inappropriate innuendos. For eleven days he is not able to close his eyes without seeing all these painful memories. His bedroom, once a place of passion and lust, now drowns in eerily silence. 

More alcohol, that’s what he needs now… Lucifer takes a step towards the bar when he catches his reflection in the silver material of a tablet. An ashen face stares back at him. And for a split second he is confused who this person is because he cannot remember looking ever this miserable.

He halts and takes a glance around the room. It is a total mess, smashed glasses and empty bottles lying everywhere. Pill bottles and substances thrown around in the heat of the moment. Scraps of furniture forming a central pile where the couch used to be, cleaned yesterday in a short clear moment between two trips. Only the piano is left untouched, as he cannot bring himself to lose this memory as well. 

For a moment Lucifer’s mind is clear enough, like he ultimately reached the center of the hurricane. Maybe it is the exhaustion after the last few days that stops the urge to keep the alcohol flowing in his veins. 

He finds an upturned chair and sets it upright again. While taking a seat Lucifer welcomes the silence for the first time. His thoughts are still a complete and utter mess but one thing keeps coming back to the forefront of his consciousness: Chloe is now out of reach forever, hidden behind steep walls of that Dad forsaken place. 

Why is it that everyone else is always getting their wish? Mom, her new kingdom; Amenadiel, his wings. Bloody hell, even that oaf of a first murderer got his final rest in the end.

Lucifer knew that this moment would come eventually. The natural consequence of their different beings. But that does not mean he easily accepts it. How can you welcome this fate if every day with her makes you feel like a long-lost piece of puzzle reattaches with your inner self? He is the devil, the physical embodiment of torture. Some may argue that he should suffer for all eternity, but Lucifer reached his limit of fucks to give. It is finally time to claim happiness for himself. And that means seeing her again. Even if it is for the blink of a moment to tell her how she made him whole again.

He steps away from the bar and walks over to the balcony, for the first time since her death feeling at peace. And after flexing his sore shoulder muscles one, two times, Lucifer takes a deep breath and the horizon starts to shift.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my take on drama. I'm not quite sure if my angst train is taking enough momentum or if I pictured a decent enough Lucifer because he is such a complex character to write. Nonetheless I injected my own experiences of handling death so I would somewhat expect him to feel these kind of things like I did at that time (except all the alcohol & drugs). 
> 
> This work is like the rest completely unbeta-ed so I apologize in advance for any mistakes you may find.
> 
> \-----
> 
> Update: I apologize for the delay on this fic. Work and real life took no pity on me and I couldn't find enough energy to continue writing for a while. Initially this story was meant to be multi chaptered but I cannot get a hold on a proper idea how to continue this. Maybe one day my muse kisses me again and I shall continue. Until then, I apologize 1000x for ending it here.


End file.
